LET IT BURN
by Argeus
Summary: A cat who was once regarded as the sweetest cat within his Clan is now dubbed "Spirits' curse". He wants to clear his name - it is a ridiculous assumption, after all. But, then again, what harm would it do to watch others turn to the very ash that he walks upon today?
1. He Who Walks With Flames

**LET IT BURN.**

* * *

**SUMMARY| **A cat who was once regarded as the sweetest cat within his Clan is now dubbed "Spirits' curse", his Clan now shunning him. They said he is "the maker of flames", for wherever he goes is plagued by vicious fire. He wants to clear his name - it is a ridiculous assumption, after all. But, then again, what harm would it do to watch others turn to the very ash that he walks upon today?

* * *

His own pawsteps were the only sound he could hear as he moved through the otherwise silent forest. He knew from the familiar, mildly pleasant smell of red oak, and the scent wreathed around him while he traveled. Ah, but it wasn't just any red oaks he smelled. It was _burnt _red oak, accompanied by the smell of smoke, which was oddly more pleasant than the smell of the tree itself. At the very back of his mind, he could hear faint yowls of horror, despair, grief, sorrow, and other depressing emotions amongst the small embers that signaled that the flames were beginning to die out.

_The flames will not be the only ones to die tonight, _the tom chuckled to himself at the thought.

Elsewhere, in another faraway corner of his mind, it inquired why he felt amusement for this, for the death of others, for the death of his _Clan_. _These are not just _any _living creatures,_ he could hear a conscience of some nature speaking to him, _they could be your family!_

The tom's body suddenly convulsed with laughter as he threw his head back and vociferated his new-found mirth to the heavens. It had ceased as soon as it began, and he was composed once again. His conscience responded again, _How _dare _you laugh at your family's possible demise! What if they died-_

"My family is already dead!" he said aloud, his tone shaking faintly with a dark chuckle. "They died moons ago, now _why _are you pestering me about this?"

A silence had taken place, but it was momentary - much to his chagrin. _That was your Clan. _It responded... with feeling? Conscience was supposed to be a part of your thoughts that monitored what was right and what was wrong. Since when did consciences speak with _feeling_? He did not have time to dwell on the thought, because it spoke up again. _That was your Clan once. You used to love your Clan! How could you become so cold now?_

"Cold?" he replied, amusement making his mew oddly cheery, with quite the dissonance considering what had just happened here. "I am quite _warm_. You know that, don't you? You _are_ a part of me, are you not?" Silence filled his mind, and he welcomed it. Still, he continued, "You should be aware of how they treated me when that _first _fire attacked the Clan when I was young. How could they suspect a _cat _of igniting fire? I am not a Spirit! But, they accused me anyway. Especially those damned elders, they treated me as if I were an omen! 'He should have never been born!' they said. Well, look who is alive today and look who is _dead_ now. Yes, sure, I _did _love my Clan, but my Clan turned their backs on me. Who cares if they die now? As I said before, my family is already deceased, so there is nothing left to care for.."

_Arson! _He groaned as the conscience spoke up, nearly yelling in his mind, _That is _cruel! _Sure, it was not kind of them to say that to you, but what would you be to stoop down to their level?_

Arson moved ahead, not bothering to respond to its question. The conscience... was a very bothersome thing, he had decided. It worried too much, and did not seem to completely understand him. So, what was it? In fact, although the conscience was supposed to be a part of _you_, it seemed to be viewing this from a third-person perspective... and that could not be right. _I will not dwell on this, _he thought firmly, willingly blocking out his conscience's rant about virtue. _Virtue? _Virtue did not exist in this world! Only the Spirits were virtuous, and they were many seasons older than him, his "Clan", or the other Clans here. No, he could not be virtuous... Watching them burn to ashes alive was much more fun than that outdated concept.

_Yes..._ he thought with a sudden gleeful emotion, _Let them burn for all I care! _His body convulsed with manic laughter as the sun crept up and began to settle itself in the sky. The sunlight had a quite particular arrangement; it lit up his red tabby fur in such a way that it made it appear like fire. Ah, yes, _fire_. He would purposely stand by and watch this Clan - maybe even the other Clans - slowly die out while the flames came and went, possessing and claiming whatever they please.

Arson admired them greatly. What freedom they have, even if their moments spent here were fleeting at best. He could not _be _the flames, so he will _watch _the flames, to his last days walking on the beautiful charred earth. As his cachinnation built up with a grand crescendo, and his eyes wild with sick glee, one would say he was quite the lunatic.

* * *

**A/N: **Hopefully that isn't too bad. Hello! This is my first fanfiction I have posted here since making this new account. :) I came up with this idea while looking for how to paint fire. Then, arson (the crime) came to mind... and then the main character and subsequently, this story was created! Yay. :) Well, please, if you feel like it, tell me what you think of it in a review. _If you are C.C.-ing - or using constructive criticism - please do not be too harsh. Be honest, but not too harsh. Note that grammar is not particularly my strong suite; that, my good friend, is spelling. _Ah, hope you enjoyed it! :D

**FUN FACT:** Arson's name is a coincidence given that cats do not know what _'arson' _is. His mother just wanted him to have a unique name, so she made up one. Yes, she received MANY grievances for the "out-Clanner" name. A real life example of this would be... Hmm... The kid that got his name changed from Messiah to Martin? Oh! I made the cover picture using images from Google and the GIMP program. The images belong to their respective owners, however, I own the edited version of the two photos.


	2. The Spectator

**LET IT BURN. /** c_hapter 2_

* * *

Arson continued to walk aimlessly across the seemingly desolate wasteland that had been a forest until sunhigh. At sunhigh, he decided that walking around had become boring and "useless". Unlike earlier, when Arson had heard the horrified, grief-stricken yowls and cries of those who lost family and friends in the recent disaster, it was quiet. The flames were gone, and the pleasurable smell of burnt oak was too faint to really enjoy. The smell of the Clan was faint, as if they had lived there once... but not anymore...

_Did they really _all_ die? _The thought of him, "Spirits' Curse", being the last alive of his Clan made him smug and giddy with joy. It did not last, however, for that conscience of his began to speak up again. Did it _ever_ stay quiet?

_You cannot think that way!_ It seemed to yowl in, no, from _within_ his ears. _It is heartless!_

"As I've said before," he stated coolly, "they deserted me, so who am I to care for those who care_ nothing _about me? They wanted me to die with the flames!"

His conscience went silent, luckily for him. But then, something else spoke up, and its voice did not come from within his mind.

"So, who wanted you to die 'with the flames'?"

Arson was startled by the voice - where had it come from? - but his exterior betrayed nothing. Well, nothing with the exception of his slipping sanity. Looking around, he caught sight of a lithe, black she-cat. She was moderately attractive, with her bright emerald eyes and good-natured smirk, but her bulging belly hinted that she was already taken. (Not that he was _looking_ for that anyway.) The most distinctive feature about her was an unusually long tuft of fur that hung over her right eye and framed that side of her face, almost like how the strange patch of fur on a Twoleg's head would look. He doubted it had been her intention, though. No other cat he knew could manage such a peculiar feat, intentional or not.

"Just a group of cats that my family and I lived with long ago." he stated, his voice neutral despite the sorrow he felt that his family could no longer walk on the charred earth.

"That group of cats are a bunch of fox-hearts then!" she responded, voice light but sharp with disapproval directed towards the Clan. "What kind of cat wishes death upon others?"

He nodded his agreement, happy to know this she-cat disapproved of the Clan's actions, but he felt a pang of indifference when she mentioned who wished death on others. The feeling was soon covered up by an air of confidence. _Those cats deserved to die,_ he thought in a reassuring matter, although he subconsciously wondered why he needed reassuring. Speaking of death... How had _this _cat survived the flames that could engulf all and claim lives like it were nothing? Her stomach looked as if it might burst, and he highly doubted she could have outran the flames as that would have encumbered her speed greatly, even if she _did_ look like a runner. Instead of wondering how she had escaped a gruesome fate, he decided to ask.

"How are you alive?" No, Arson did not even attempt to hide what he was asking, and a result came out to be quite a jarring question, made evident by the she-cat's widening eyes.

She wasn't offended, however, for her good-natured smirk returned once again, although a vague sadness could be seen within her eyes. "Simple! The fire can never burn _directly _underground. It will only hurt you if you are above-ground where it is. That belief of mine was proven to be true, and that's what kept me and my soon-to-be little ones alive! My mate, however... he didn't believe me."

_Her mate is dead, then, because he refused to listen to her ideas. She is still alive... she outsmarted the fire! _Arson suddenly felt a surge of respect for the black queen. "That is unfortunate," he muttered, for once actually feeling sorry for the death of her loved one. Perhaps the new-found respect brought this feeling, a feeling that was foreign to him even as the cat they formerly called "Arsonpaw".

"Unfortunate," she said softly, "yes... But, surprising, no... He always was a stubborn one..."

"Hmm."

A momentary silence took place, and for once it was vaguely awkward, no longer welcomed. However, the dark-pelted queen quickly broke that silence.

"You know~," she began, "You didn't tell me your name! So, I'll tell you mine. I'm Jet."

_Jet?_ he inquired within his mind. He thought the name was strange - what was a _jet_? - but he thought better of it when he realized he, nor did any other cat he knew, understood what his _own_ name meant. His thoughts made him ignorant to the fact that Jet had asked for his name, but he soon remembered it when he became aware of the surroundings again, noticing Jet's bushy tail - no lighter than the rest of her fur - beginning to lash in irritation, although her face did not betray it. "Are you in there?" she commented in a light fashion, but Arson noticed the faint yet sharp tinge of annoyance within her otherwise sweet voice.

Arson did not respond to the comment, however, for inwardly he found himself offended by it. Instead, he spoke his name, and received the expected reaction. First, confusion, followed by concentration, thought, before it fell into utter perplexity. He had seen so many cats make the same reaction whenever he told his name that it would be _more _surprising if they didn't react that way. However, she did not speak of it, she merely nodded at him, and proceeded to aim her bright green eyes to the skies above.

"It's past sunhigh!" she exclaimed in shock, noting the Sun's location and the bright azure blue of the sky, with no clouds to hide its beauty. Arson merely twitched his unusually long whiskers. He could care less what time of day it was, after all, he had identified that it was sunhigh a while ago. Looking back at him, she said, "Well, what do you plan on doing now?"

"Moving along."

"Moving along? Moving _where_ exactly?" So far, there had only been one part of this territory that had yet to see the flame's wrath... The only place that could qualify would be along the path that would lead to the _StarTree, _where the red oaks stood tall and strong, and the vegetation was green and healthy, where it might be possible to see tiny stars glitter on leaves late at night. Yes, the sacred place. Due to lack of sustainable territory, the prey would flock there, so food should be plentiful, and with it being the path to _StarTree_, the _only _way of meeting the Spirits from your own will, it should be protected by them. As much as Arson loved watching the huge orange-red forces of nature destroy and take what it wanted, survival meant that certain things needed to survive, or everything would fall to pieces like dominoes. Yes, for now... The flames would have to cease.

He wondered within his mind whether or not the heavily pregnant queen needed to be informed of this location. Before he himself could make up his mind, however, _it _had to speak up again.

_You must! _his conscience cried, _or she and her kits will die!_

Again, the thought of that actually made him pitiful - or rather, _dismayed_. What rare feelings, indeed. Unfortunately, Jet's presence meant that he could not respond to _it_ how he liked, so he decided to agree with its actions for once, hoping it will shut it up.

"Jet."

"Eh? Oh, so you just like going into la-la-land over there, huh? I know the fire's been causing a lot of smoke, but I didn't think it could mess with a cat's head!"

He ignored the statement. "There is a place to the north of here, where the fires have had yet to destroy it."

"Really?" Her eyes lit up with joy and curiosity. "Wait, there is prey there, right?"

His whiskers twitched once again, although not of amusement. "There would _have_ to be, or else we would die whether the flames come back or not."

"Hmph," she snorted, "there's no funny-bone in you, I see!"

After a moment's silence, she added hesitantly, "Mind showing me there?"

For the most part, he did not _care _whether or not this she-cat remained alive, but his conscience would never let him walk in silence again should he abandon her. Plus... no matter how he tried to push the thought to the back of his mind, but the thought of just leaving her here to die was unsettling. Perhaps because she carried young lives inside of her... _Wait, why am I dwelling on this if I have made my decision? _

As expected, when he decided to stop ignoring his surroundings once again, he noticed Jet giving him a playfully mischievous glance, meaning she was about to comment on his spacing out _yet again. _He could not think of words that would sound strange to say his approval of the idea of showing her there, so he merely nodded. She grinned widely.

"Thanks, Arson! See, those cats of yours didn't know what they were talking about!"

He sighed. If only _they_ had realized that...

* * *

**A/N: Hi, hopefully that was enjoyable! I could understand it if you d_o not _like Arson's character, I mean, he _is _sadistic and obviously slipping off the sanity slope. (Did that make sense? XD) The whole point of that, though? _Evil _(or in this case, insanity) is not _born_, it's _made_. As for Jet, she's more fun and optimistic, but not to the point she is naive. And, aside from cats grinning, laughing in a human-like fashion, and Jet's Twoleg-like fringe of hair, nothing else diverges from reality, so I don't need to be reminded of its limitations. (Nope, no crying._)_ Artistic license, people~! If you could review, that would be nice, but if not, I understand. :'3 Still, though, I _would _appreciate it.  
See ya next chapter! _~Maya_**

**P.S: Typos? Grammatical errors? Continuity errors? I hope not! D: But, if you spot them, let me know so I may correct them. Thank you very much!**


	3. Confrontation

**LET IT BURN. /** c_hapter 3_

* * *

"Arson!"

"_WHAT_?!"

"Do not _DARE _to speak to me in such a tone, insolent _ant_!" The deep voice boomed with such ferocity that it actually made Arson wince, but not of fear. Beside its irate tone, it threatened to deafen him with its ridiculous volume. He knew the identity of this voice, but not because he _personally_ knew its owner. He only knew it from stories his grandmother told him as a little kit.

_Lightheart, it would appear I have warranted the attention of Audiebant, _he thought, a warm feeling coming into his being as he thought of his late relative. The she-cat was always exceptionally kind and wise, and suddenly he wished he could go back in time and return to those happy days with his family.

Unfortunately, that was only wishful thinking. Those days, those _wonderful _times, were over, and he would only experience them once he reached his grave. Too bad he wasn't willing to die.

Standing upright again, Arson decided to aim his defiant glare to the stormy heavens above, where the clouds churned madly, as if to spite him. Of course, Arson thought nothing of it, until a figure began to descend from the rampant skies. A dark-furred tom, whose fur was actually _longer _than Arson's, who originally had been the furriest cat of his Clan. His fur was dark enough to easily blend in with the night, and thus made his facial features almost indistinguishable, although Arson could easily spot his short, fine whiskers. However, his wrathful amber eyes were by far the most memorable thing about him. His ears, which were said to be the basis of his name - Arson could not tell, for he did not speak the _ancient language _- were as long and as pointy as Lightheart had described, and it was as furry as the rest of him. His tail lacked length, although he noted inwardly that it would be lashing quite violently if it had gotten longer.

_So __**this **__is Audiebant, he who hears all! _he thought with sudden amusement when Audiebant ceased his descent, opting to levitate instead, showing off the powers of the Spirits.

"_You_," he began, his deep voice still loud but softer than before, "did _Amor _ever tell you that two wrongs never make a right?"

"Amor?" Arson inquired with a snort, "Just who would _that_ be?"

The resulting eye twitch of Audiebant was enough to make Arson erupt with laughter, but it was interrupted as soon as it began.

"_SILENCE_, ant!" The harsh sound brought much pain to his ears, making Arson fall to the ground, although not of his own accord. "The point is that you should not wish ill fate to those who wronged you!"

"Why not?" Arson asked after a few moments, previously in too much pain to respond.

"It makes you no better than them," Audiebant replied simply, "after all, what would _Jet _think if she knew that you actually _wanted your Clan to die_?"

It was true; Arson had no intention to mention to Jet what he _truly _wished upon the Clan of his birth. She would react as they did; she would abandon him, even if his presence gave her more protection than wandering in the charred woods alone, especially since she was pregnant, and not far off from kitting. The possibility of that annoyed him greatly, and thus that thought was promptly pushed into the recesses of his mind.

When he did not answer, Audiebant continued. "You, _ant, _are unaware of the effect of words. Therefore, I will tell you this once and once only: _think carefully about what you say_. You may not mean your words, but, I assure you; say the wrong thing and you will pay for it dearly."

_What does this have to do with me? _thought Arson in exasperation.

"You will see what it has to do with you, _ant_."

* * *

"Is every cat alright? I repeat, is every cat alright?"

These words were the first thing Arson heard as he woke up. He was very irritated that Audiebant had forced him to return to his currently dull reality, but there was little he could do about it now. The voice that woke him held vague familiarity, but he couldn't exactly place its identity as he was still dazed from sleep. His senses returned to him promptly, however, when he heard Jet.

"Arson!" she hissed, keeping the volume of her meow at the lowest she could make it while within Arson's auditory range, "Who are those cats?"

"What cats?" He replied, voice unintentionally snappy. Jet did not mind it, though.

She had become accustomed to his attitude - at least, _somewhat _accustomed to it - since the journey to the northern reaches of the territory. As Arson said, it was now the only part of the forest not scarred by the flames, and prey... well, prey wasn't _that _plentiful, but they were definitely there. There were also the necessary requirements for making a temporary shelter (as much as a cat could make such a shelter), therefore it turned out to be quite a habitable location. At present, they had been here for three sunrises, but _these _cats appeared just this dawn. Their sudden appearance made Jet cautious, but not worried. Her caution, currently, was been overshadowed by the amusement she got from seeing Arson in his fatigue. His red-tabby fur, which was _already _messy, looked as if it hadn't been groomed for weeks, his whiskers stuck out in so many directions it was silly, and his eyes hadn't opened fully since he had woke. It was quite a sight, really.

"I said, 'what cats'?" repeated Arson.

"Those cats," Jet answered quietly, nodding her head in their direction.

She hadn't expected his reaction, though. When he saw them, his eyes were fully awake, and they held such surprise and _hatred_ that it shocked her. Even the kits in her belly squirmed somewhat when she saw the intensity of his gaze.

_Gracious! He even shocked the little ones. Could those be...?_

As if on cue, Arson began to speak, and his words were rather unkind. "_Damn _those cats! I had the suspicion that they would go hear as well - but to be in this _exact same spot_? Damn it _all_!"

"It's them, eh?" It may have had an inquisitive tone, but it was not a question. It was indeed the cats that had once shunned him, and named him "Spirit's Curse". The very mention of his _name _brought out hisses and snarls, or insults that were as sharp as a claw. Speaking of which, Arson had begun to growl in a menacing way, and it was increasing in volume rapidly.

"Okay, okay, hush up now!" Arson turned to look back at her, eyes still angry but no longer as intense. She felt a pang of relief as she realized that there was no hatred in his gaze, at least, not directed at _her_. "I would like to do something."

"Do _what_?"

"Eh, I want to test something out! I would like to find out some things. I'm gonna go talk to those cats there."

"_Those _cats... are not worth speaking to." Arson's statement was supposed to end with "should not be alive", but he left that out for the sake of simplicity. She could find out about his longing for the death of O- no, _those cats _at a later time.

"Perhaps, but I want to see for myself. Anyway, is that alright?"

"I do not see the point."

"Then it's a yes!~"

"I did not give you my permis-"

"Bye!" Jet bounded away before Arson could say "mouse", leaving quite the agitated tom, his tail lashing violently. Jet was a very nice cat, as she had proven herself on the journey over here, but her tendency to be _so happy _annoyed him somewhat. How she managed to be so happy in this world was something he could never understand...

* * *

"Hello." This was the first word she uttered as Jet walked up to the group, albeit very slowly. Bearing the weight of three kits around a half-moon before kitting made her movement much slower than usual, but due to her agility she could still keep up with any other cat if she added more effort. As her eyes scanned the cats, she noticed one cat in particular. A she-cat, to be exact. She had light-colored fur, unusual green-blue eyes, and some crazy looking whiskers. And, aside from smelling strongly of ash and burnt red oaks, she was relatively unscathed from the recent flame. However, she _did _have a torn ear.

_Even Arson's whiskers don't look that strange! _she thought in amusement.

Unlike Jet's friendly gaze, the other she-cat's gaze held caution, even borderline hostility. "May I help you?" her voice was like silk, very smooth, very calm.

"Yes... You cats are a group, are you not?"

"What does it look like, molly?" interrupted a gray and black tom.

"Silence! She is speaking to _me_." The tom, and the other seven cats remained silent for the remainder of the conservation. "Yes, we are. We are from OakClan, and the trees here are our namesake, not the very first leader of the Clan. Why do you ask?"

"Just because~." That wasn't entirely untrue, especially not for a cat like Jet.

"Hmm."

"What do _you _call yourself?"

"Sandwhisker."

_Sandwhisker? Hmm, seems like they should have named her Twistedwhisker!_

"Ah. I heard something about a cat named Arson, what's up with the 'Spirit's Curse' thing-"

"Arson? _Arson?!" _The intense hatred in her gaze shocked Jet, although, unlike Arson's spiteful gaze earlier, there was something different about it. Was that _sadness _in her eyes?

"Arson is a curse to OakClan! He is the personification of _Hell_!"

"What's 'hell'?" This term was unheard of in Jet's vocabulary, and she hadn't heard of it prior to this conversation.

"Never_ mind _what Hell is! All I know is that he _is _Hell!"

_On what world? _To Jet, Arson was much nicer than this perceived 'hell', or anything else they had dubbed them. Sure, he was usually annoyed and did favors grudgingly, but he would still do whatever you asked of him. In a way, he was actually one of the nicest cats she had ever met. _Are these cats __**mad**__?_

"Alright, alright, that's all I wanted to know, bye!" Before Jet could leave, Sandwhisker jumped in front of her, stopping her right in her tracks.

"Wait. Look at you!"

"Look at me?"

"Yes, _you_. You look like you need help!"

"I'll be fine!"

"No, no, you _are _a queen. Let us help you."

"Help me?"

"_Yes_."

"I don't want to keep my mate waiting, you see!"

"We are going to help you, and you are going to like it."

"But, my mate-"

"Your mate can wait."

"He's an impatient tom. He can't keep his paws off me~!"

"...That is not my business. Please, come with us!"

"I appreciate it. Hey, why don't I talk to my mate first, okay?"

Sandwhisker finally gave in, too exasperated to continue this game with the goofy she-cat.

"_Fine_," she said grudgingly, "but you know where to find us! Please, don't get yourself hurt out here."

"Yeah, yeah, I know where I'm putting my paws."

As Jet was nearing her and Arson's resting place, also known as a humble little bush next to some herbs, she heard a certain set of words that should not have ever been uttered by these cats, these _OakClan _cats.

"It is him! He, with the devil's eyes! Arson, _Spirit's curse_!"

* * *

**Hooray, a new chapter at last! We know the name of Arson's former Clan now, although if you paid attention to the description of the setting in the last two chapters, the name isn't surprising at all. Also, I apologize for the delay, I finished this chapter Wednesday. Unfortunately, my Wi-Fi cut off that day so I was unable to upload it until today. Chapter 3 happens to be longer than Chapter 2, by approx. 315 words! Isn't that lovely? By the way, was the dialogue between Jet and Sandwhisker at the end entertaining at all? XD It was intended to be entertaining, at least somewhat so. I hope you enjoyed it, as I enjoying writing it!**


	4. Recrimination Pt 1

**LET IT BURN / **_Chapter 4_

The tension in the air was palpable. For Jet, however, it threatened to consume her, even though such anxiety was not healthy in a pregnant she-cat such as herself. _What will happen now? _The question hung in the air, mocking, _teasing_ even, at least in her mind. What would occur now, now that Spirits' Curse and they, the ones who shunned him, met face to face once again?

"_Devil!_"

"Evil!"

"Spawn of Hell!"

There was that 'hell' word again... now just what did it _mean? _Based on its context here, it obviously was not meant as a compliment of any kind.

"Here to spite us again?" Sandwhisker's meow sounded above the previous cries of abhorrence, somehow calm despite the rage that made her voice aloof. Not surprisingly, Sandwhisker was completely void of the concern she had _insisted _upon moments ago, and that sudden change in demeanor unnerved Jet.

It almost reminded her of Arson, who had went from jaded to livid upon the utterance that suggested their presence. Was _this_ how cats acted once hatred consumed their lives? Speaking of which, Arson stalked forward, unfazed by the hostile glares of those he dared to call his Clanmates. But, they were of no relation to him. None of them. For all his relatives were walking the skies with Audiebant the Listener, and the other Great Spirits.

The OakClan cats - rather, a small fraction of OakClan - did not take his action as a positive gesture and soon Jet could hear only the sounds of hisses and snarls, harsh, rude, uncaring, so very _cruel_ to the gentle queen's ears...

Oh, how she wanted to silence them up, how she longed to tell them that this behavior was what has made Arson so distrusting of them - even though she was unaware that he coveted their demise. How she wished to say that they had _made _him this way with their superstitious ways. How even in this distorted manner that there was good in his soul, a _surprising_ amount of good.

His actions were not truly kind, but the way he was spoken of made even simple things like leading her to the only habitable part of the forest left, or allowing her to stay with him afterwards... things like that somehow took more significance with him and actually made Jet think of him as _kind_.

But, what of Sandwhisker, who had previously insisted upon them (OakClan) helping her? Was she not kind? _She's only kind to those she wants to be nice to, _Jet did not reject her bitter thoughts, _Ju__st like the rest of her seemingly fox-hearted Clan! _

It was quite the struggle to look on without uttering another word, and trying to keep her emotions - which were currently about as clear as a smothering blizzard - under check, mainly for the little lives she was carrying at the moment.

* * *

"Why do you show your face here again?" Sandwhisker inquired. Unlike the others, she did not have time to sit there and snarl at the traitor to her Clan. She had to be diplomatic, and diplomacy did not call for ignorant hostility. It called instead for a calm mind and clear judgement, within the bounds of the Warrior Code, of course.

"I did not wish to show my face to _you_. I _wished _to find somewhere to inhabit that wasn't void of shelter or prey, and this was the only place here. To my utmost terrible luck, I just _had _to run into _you all_."

Inwardly, Sandwhisker was shocked. His tone was so encumbered with hate that the note his voice normally stayed in dipped down at least two octaves, and thus made him sound very menacing. His already dark green eyes had darkened even further with loathing. Glancing around at her Clanmates, she saw hatred in their faces as well, but not to _that_ extent.

_This cat is more dangerous than we may have suspected, _she thought, subconsciously tensing her muscles in case he should try to attack them. Consciously, however, she knew she had to respond - a cat incapable of speech when it is called for is was not a cat capable of helping her crippled Clan. Neither was a cat that foolishly charged into a fight that had yet to begin.

"You do realize that Foxstar was quite clear when he told you that you shouldn't_ 'step a paw in our territory again, unless you never wish to see another sunrise'_, right?"

Arson's eyes flashed with surprise momentarily as she quoted Foxstar with near perfection - how did _she_ remember the exact phrase? - but Sandwhisker continued moments after, missing the spiteful look that appeared after.

"Now that you remember that, please explain why you were _anywhere _on our territory, destroyed or not? Or better yet, why do you complain as to how this is the only inhabitable place in OakClan's territory?" It was then Sandwhisker made a very crucial error; she let emotions override her apathy. "_You _made it this way, _Arson_! You are destroying us, and our land! How do you have the audacity to feel remorse for what you have caused? Have you lost all sense?"

"It was _NOT MY DOING_!" The yowl nearly deafened most of the cats there, and Sandwhisker noted Jet's wincing in response to the loud sound. Looking more closely, she saw how she looked; a mixture of anger and apprehension was written on her face, and her formerly bright viridian eyes were currently dull, stormy with indecision. It was at that moment, where she saw Jet's face betraying her conflicting emotions, the looks of outrage and confusion on her Clanmates, and the look of defiance on Arson's face... that _she _felt rage. A rage that could overpower even the flames that had claimed so many lives, and so much land. The fires that destroyed _everything_... It was then that her strive for diplomacy was consumed by the ignited flames of _wrath_.

"_YOU!_" The sandy brown she-cat suddenly found herself unable to identify what was around her, or what she was even _doing_, "_YOU_, how _dare _you speak in such a manner around my Clan? I ought to claw off your head right here, I ought to rid us _all _from this _devil _that has found its way onto Earth! My Clan has done nothing to you, or anyone! All we did was _suffer, _and you mean to tell me that it was _NOT YOU_?!"

Her conscience was suddenly something she could no longer identify or hear, and all she could see was _red. _Red hot burning_ rage_. "We _saw _it, Arson, we _saw _how the flames followed you everywhere you went, while you just pranced along like it was nothing!"

"If I were to claw through your chest," Sandwhisker began, unaware of the rather unnerving facial expression she was wearing, or the snarl that had been embedded in her meow since the beginning of her rant, "would I even find a heart there? Or would I find an empty cavern where a heart should be, because you _have none! _There is even a loner here, a _queen _for Spirits' sake, and you yowled so loud, and without care, you could have very well deafened any younger cats in this area, or what if you had jump-started her labor by shocking her and her unborn kits?"

"_GO_!" She felt something warm and wet - a liquid - on her paw, staining her claws a color they should not be, but she didn't care what it had been, "Get away from here! We do not want you here, a heartless tom like you! We. Do. Not. Want. You. Walking. On. This. _Earth!"_ She eventually realized that she was striking at something, and that the sensation from before was growing more conspicuous by the moment.

"Sandwhisker!"

"Sandwhisker!"

"_SANDWHISKER, STOP!"_

It was then, upon hearing the horrified cry of a she-cat - was that _Jet _she heard? - that Sandwhisker's vision finally cleared and that she noticed her paws covered in red, scarlet liquid. She realized, with a hollow feeling slowly creeping into and occupying her being, that it was _blood_.

_Devil's blood _of all things.

* * *

**A/N: This chapter and the upcoming chapter is actually one whole chapter split in half! For the very short of amount of people actually reviewing on this, I'm sure you're like "Why the hell did you end this here, Maya?!" Well, because, I felt it should end here. This chapter, I mean. I have a critique and project to do for homework, so you will not see the other half of this chapter (split into two for suspense purposes) until mid-to-late next week. Once that chapter is posted, this story will cease updating for about two weeks so I can finish and upload some other stories. Understand? ^^'**

**Sandwhisker is hypocritical, yes, I know, but there is a reason why she got consumed with dark emotions towards the end here, and it shall be explained later in the story. Hope you enjoyed this, as I enjoyed writing it! Please alert me if there are errors of any kind on _any _chapter. Thank you and see you soon!**


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